


Personal Notes (19) The first time has to be right.

by longhairshortfuse



Series: Carlos's Secret Diary [19]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Fluff, M/M, Not much plot, Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-27 15:45:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1716005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longhairshortfuse/pseuds/longhairshortfuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos and Cecil have another date. Carlos is keen but Cecil is determined that their first time together should be just right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Personal Notes (19) The first time has to be right.

I went out of the lab and drove while I listened with fear in my heart to Cecil's show the day after our date. I didn't know how much he would say. I didn't know how he felt about it, about me. After a while I parked the car and stared at the radio, my emotions oscillating between horror that he broadcast so much, something so personal was public knowledge, and elation at the joy in Cecil's voice. 

I called him later, after I got home and calmed down, with another set of sticky notes prepared. I forgot about being angry that he told everyone so much detail. I asked if I could see him again, soon. We agreed on the next day, today, even though we were both busy. I would pick him up around noon after he finished recording some promotional material at the radio station and he would show me some of the beauty of the scrublands and sand wastes in the three hours or so before I started my shift in the lab. 

I packed some snacks and drinks into the cooler before picking him up. Cecil directed me out of town along a road that petered out, rough tarmac turned to gravel that slipped into dust. He showed me where to park and we got out. There was nothing to see, flat featureless orange-grey-brown rocks and dust in all directions with a sparse scattering of low growing shrubs that clung to survival with deep roots, fierce thorns and narrow, waxy leaves. Cecil pointed and we walked slowly in the heat, the cooler between us and a picnic blanket over my shoulder. Suddenly we were at the top of a ravine invisible from the road. There was a narrow path down to the trickle of something that almost wasn't a river, its dry banks grasped by gnarled dwarf trees with exposed roots. Carefully we picked our way down. He told me that he used to come here with Earl and I had a little stab of jealousy.

We chose a flat, shaded spot that would, in a particularly wet season, be part of the river bed and ate while we talked. After I found the courage to say that I thought there were some things that he shouldn't tell everyone, he was quiet. We leaned against each other back to back and still said nothing. I wondered if he was upset and tried to think up something useful to say. I couldn't and time, I suppose, passed silently.

Cecil stirred and I sat up a little in case he wanted to move. He shifted around to sit beside me, facing me, and looked right into me with that same expression that caused such sweet discomfort in the restaurant. We kissed gently, hands guiding each other's faces. We kissed harder, hands moving to shoulders and back. We kissed with hunger, devouring. I pushed Cecil so that he toppled over backwards and propped myself above him, leant down and kissed him again gently, teasing. He pushed himself up towards me and I knelt upright. He mirrored my position. There was a rock under my knee but I didn't dare move in case I broke the moment. We knelt upright with our arms around each other, lost in kissing and touching. His hands were in my hair, making my skin tingle unbearably. I moved my hands to the smooth bare curve of his lower back under his tunic and his waistband, and pulled him towards me hard. I wanted him, right there, right then, and I could feel that he wanted me. 

I moved a hand to the bulge at his groin. He pushed me away and said, not here. Not like this. I asked what he meant and reached for him again. Fear and disappointment. Didn't he want me? He held my wrists and said that he did, but we only get one chance at our first time together and it should be done right, not here in a rush with work on our minds and the chance of an unexpected hiker walking past. I assured him that my mind was free of all thoughts other than what I wanted to do with him, but I knew he was right. I nodded and we packed up and returned to town. On the way back, Cecil asked if I would drop him off in the centre of town and would it be OK if he came to say goodnight after I finished work. I said that would be neat and he laughed. I offered him my apartment key to let himself in if he was early or I was late. He paused, looked at me kind of sideways and told me that he wouldn't need it. 

If there's no such thing as real time here, why is this the longest shift of my life?

***

My shift ended late because I was engrossed in analysing data and writing comments on reports from the postgrads. Ell took over from me with hardly a word. I started to tell her about what stage my data analyses had reached so she could take over efficiently but she told me to shut up and go home. 

I went upstairs to my apartment. There was a large envelope tacked to the door. Inside was a note in Ell's handwriting, "Loverboy, if you can't be good, be careful!" with a winking face instead of the dot over the i, a pair of purple nitrile gloves, a tube of lube and a strip of condoms. I stuffed the envelope into my pocket, unlocked the door and went in. I expected it to be dark but there was the warm flicker of a candle on the hallway table, next to a vase that held two roses. One was intact, open fully, about to drop its petals. The other had only a couple of petals still attached along with a note pinned to it: follow me. I saw petals on the floor forming a trail. I picked up the candle and followed the petal trail through the small apartment, through the lounge, past the open kitchen, to my bedroom where another soft light flickered. To Cecil. 

He took the candle from my hand and put it down with his in front of the mirror which he had turned to face the wall. For a second I remembered the fire extinguisher I kept in the kitchen. He stroked my hair, kissed me and helped me out of my lab coat. I said I needed a shower, but I didn't move, couldn't take my eyes away. We undressed each other as we drifted towards the shower room, leaving a trail of discarded clothing behind us. 

We shared a shower. He washed my hair, the feel of his fingers on my head set off a tingling in my skin that started in my scalp and spread down my back. We lathered each other, slithering and giggling at the silliness of it, the lack of elbow-room in the cubicle that was so generously sized for a single occupant. We rinsed and touched, starting at the top and working our way down. Everywhere we could reach. Aroused. Cecil turned the jet from pleasant warmth to sudden shocking cold and laughed at my shrieking (and shrinking) as I jumped out. 

He led me, trailing water, back to my bedroom and pushed me onto my bed. The evaporation of the dampness on my skin from the slightest air current made me feel alert and energised. He crawled over beside me and kissed me slowly on my lips, my neck, my chest, tracing his tongue over my nipples and making me squirm in delight at the sensation. He reached my stomach, paused below my navel, quickly but gently sucked just the tip of my erection once causing a brief muscle spasm in my core. He looked up, into my eyes, a question in his smile. I pivoted round and softly kissed his knee, traced a line up his inner thigh, he hissed as I gently bit the soft curve where his leg met his hip. My tongue flicked and traced along the shaft of his penis. I breathed with excited anticipation as he did the same to me, using his mouth, rhythmically but carefully, working his tongue and lips. I lost all sense of time and space, all that existed was here and now. Cecil and me. Our mouths made our bodies arch and beg for more. Our hands and fingers stroked and probed softly and slowly then gradually harder and deeper. I felt the exciting, intense tingle of another part of him inside me, fingers moving in time with the rhythm of his mouth, almost too much to bear. I held on, held back the rush. I felt his body begin to tighten. I slowed down my mouth and my fingers, moved more gently to match the frequency of the waves pulsing pleasure through his body. He moaned once and panted hard as he came. Seconds later, so did I.

I woke up as Cecil returned from the shower room, picked up his clothes and started to get dressed. Had I fallen asleep straight after...? I was embarrassed. Stay, I said. Stay over. He replied that I seemed tired after a long day and he had an early start preparing interviews and news items for his show and he wasn't ready to let me see what he is like when he has to get up early. I said I was on early shift, we could both get up early. But he continued dressing. I looked for a more persuasive argument to convince him to stay. I could have said that I wanted to hold him close, fall asleep in his arms, wake up together with the contours of his body fitting into mine, bring him coffee in bed. Make him moan and shudder with joy all over again. 

Instead I said did he know that there was a hormone called oxytocin released during sexual activity that made people feel intimate and calm. He kissed the top of my head, picked up my lab coat and asked if he could take something of mine to have at his place. I nodded, saying we could do a swap. He folded his tunic onto the chair and put on my lab coat instead. I got up and followed him to the door. He kissed me again, pressing his clothed body against my naked one (I was surprised how sexy it felt and will suggest we do that again), said goodnight in his best radio voice and left. I stood in the hallway leaning against the closed door, missing him and willing him to change his mind, come back. I was too afraid to tell him that I am in love. Too afraid to shout it to him from my window.

Then I remembered about the contents of my lab coat pocket, banged my head softly on the door a few times and groaned.


End file.
